Patrick Smith reviews the first part of the new series of Endeavour,
the Sixties-set prequel to Inspector Morse.

A confession bordering on heresy: growing up, I didn't like Inspector Morse. Though it was revered by critics and starred the marvellous John Thaw as the detective many consider the nation's favourite, I could never understand its appeal. More than anything, the agonisingly sluggish pace meant I neither knew nor cared about the plot. My father, on the other hand, has always been obsessed with it: he still spends most of his days sutured to the sofa, watching its re-runs. "You should check out The Shield or Breaking Bad," I urge him. But weaning my father off Morse and getting him to branch out is pointless – unless, of course, we're talking about Lewis, the recently concluded spin-off devoted to Morse's unreconstructed sidekick (played by Kevin Whateley).

In reviewing the first of a new four-part series of Endeavour, ITV's Sixties-set prequel to Morse, I was therefore risking incurring his wrath. How would he feel if I panned his favourite TV franchise? Well, he can rest easy, because on the evidence of tonight's opener, Endeavour is a very welcome addition to the Sunday night schedules: well acted and, much like its predecessors, possessing all the menace of a cup of warm Horlicks. Certainly all the elements you'd expect to find in an episode of Morse were there. Sumptuous Oxford setting? Tick. Complex family relationships? Tick. Well-heeled academics you don't trust? Candid conversations down the pub? A buccaneering denouement, in which all is revealed? Tick, Tick, Tick. This felt like much-needed escapism after the depressingly long winter.

Shaun Evans, reprising his role from last year's pilot, was more convincing as the youthful Morse this time around: clever, earnest, insolent. In tonight's case, the rookie Detective Constable was investigating the death of a beautiful young woman, apparently from a heart attack. The pressure was on from the start: the newly recruited Chief Superintendent Bright (Anton Lesser), a weaselly man who punctuates his sentences with Latin words such as tabula rasa (meaning clean slate), believed Morse to be out of his depth. Fortunately for the promising youngster, his boss, DI Fred Thursday (Roger Allam), had faith in him. “You're here on merit," said Thursday. "Not that you’d know it from the state of you. You might have found time to run an iron; that shirt looks like you've slept in it. First impressions Morse."

Allam, armed with that mellifluous voice of his, was the episode's secret weapon. Turning in a delightfully understated performance, he linked up nicely with Evans, their interplay helping drive the plot. One scene, in which Thursday was forced to put Morse in his place, was particularly pleasing. “When it comes to a bird with a wing down," said Thursday, discussing Morse's kindness to a female suspect, "you’ve got a blind spot a mile wide. It’ll be your undoing.” “I’m a good detective,” Morse insisted, moments later. “And a poor policeman," Thursday replied. "No one can teach you the first. Any fool can learn the second.”

There was the odd caveat. The murderer’s motives, for example, were questionable – and he lacked the coldness of a man capable of shooting dead two people. Ultimately, though, this was enough to make me rethink my stance on Inspector Morse. Now that I'm a little older, following a meandering police investigation suddenly feels like a Sunday well spent.